A patch of paradise

What a welcome! A smoko was in full swing. Tea, coffee and more calories that can be good for you were gracing the table. The mist was being burned away, Johnny Rook was being vocal on the back step and the scent of honeysuckle as we walked through the garden was an olfactory ambush.

Boots off, feet up and to relax before lunch.

Do visit Carcass Island. The food is to die for and the comfort is that of an oasis in a harsh world.

Leopard beach

No leopard seals in recent years, but their prey ie penguins, in abundance. A gentle bimble along the landrover track, and then … a staggering vista. Tussock grass as far as the eye could see with clumps across the narrow neck of this island. A scene truly from Jurassic Park. I could just imagine dinosaurs roaming between these ancient looking plants.

No dinosaurs, but Penguins; Magellanics and Gentoos in their hundreds. Porpoising in the water, riding the surf into land or running down the beach, they are in their element. Fat babies or should I say adolescents, stand around with their peers, shedding fluffy feathers into the wind. A mad wedding celebration with confetti feathers scattered to the southern ocean winds.

Carcass Island

The farthest inhabited island on the NW edge of the Falkland archipeligo — our next call. The day dawned gloomy, but the mist was not as thick as a peasouper — perhaps a consomme?

A French cruise ship pulled into the south bay and inflatables drove to the beach. Guides wearing antarctic red cagoules came ashore. We were in muted greys, Barbour sage green and Meindel boots. I think we blended into the landscape; they stood out.

Our landrover arrived and we returned the 10 miles to the settlement — a journey of over 1 hour as the Defender crawled over rock falls and then trundled across Diddle-dee.

The settlement had been sunny the afternoon before and the day was shaping up to be bright.

The Islander plane bounced down, disgorging among others, my colleague and friend of old, Norman Binnie, the surgical advisor to the islands, now off on a bit of R&R down at the Neck of Saunders.

Fog banks were reported out at the Jasons and Carcass was fog bound. Our FIGAS pilot peered out of his window, flew wavetop low and hugged the coast of the islands. I spotted the settlement on Carcass, but other details were blurred by the fog.

The plane banked around the top of the island and dropped onto the grass strip. Another safe landing and Rob (the owner of Carcass was there to greet us)

His sheep were to be shorn, and Daniel a fellow passenger was the man for the job.

Carcass Island

The farthest inhabited island on the NW edge of the Falkland archipeligo — our next call. The day dawned gloomy, but the mist was not as thick as a peasouper — perhaps a consomme?

A French cruise ship pulled into the south bay and inflatables drove to the beach. Guides wearing antarctic red cagoules came ashore. We were in muted greys, Barbour sage green and Meindel boots. I think we blended into the landscape; they stood out.

Our landrover arrived and we returned the 10 miles to the settlement — a journey of over 1 hour as the Defender crawled over rock falls and then trundled across Diddle-dee.

The settlement had been sunny the afternoon before and the day was shaping up to be bright.

The Islander plane bounced down, disgorging among others, my colleague and friend of old, Norman Binnie, the surgical advisor to the islands, now off on a bit of R&R down at the Neck of Saunders.

Fog banks were reported out at the Jasons and Carcass was fog bound. Our FIGAS pilot peered out of his window, flew wavetop low and hugged the coast of the islands. I spotted the settlement on Carcass, but other details were blurred by the fog.

The plane banked around the top of the island and dropped onto the grass strip. Another safe landing and Rob (the owner of Carcass was there to greet us)

His sheep were to be shorn, and Daniel a fellow passenger was the man for the job.

Question?

How many penguins do you need to boil to get 4.5 litres of oil?

Answer — in an iron Trypot you need 8 penguins

As far as the eye can see, huddled in groups across the neck in Saunders. Dots on the sand from the cabin and raucous colonies from sniffing distance.

They do not mind us if we sit down and stay still. They will spook, even if you pass at the recommended distance. Their lives are on a high state of alert. Predators are aloft and even amongst them, just waiting for their chance. I am told that when there are chicks, that the cull by vultures, Giant Southern Petrels and the omnipresent Skuas is distressing to behold.

Nature has no pity. Life teams in the seas down here, but sometimes luck just runs out. Hundreds of jelly fish lay cast up upon the sands — including some denizens of the deep.

On its discovery, it was so densely covered by high tussock grass, that the illustrator from the sea, thought that the bushes were trees and added palm trees to good effect. Pigs, cattle, goats and sheep have seen off the tussock and the island looks sadly bare today.

Johnny Rook deserves a special mention

The books say that they will allow you to approach quite close — their spook distance is small. That is incorrect. They like red things; and cameras; and sunnies; and Landies. They also are intensely curious and having hovered over your head, will land about 2 metres away and then walk to you with only 1 metre gap. They are not keen though on workfare.

Oh there will be high winds tomorrow and it will be bumpy in the plane — haha.

So I did not sleep well, though i slept through the high winds of darkness. By 10 am, 'twas normal Falkands weather ie windy. A minor indignity was standing on the scales to determine the trim of the a/c. The small twin prop plane with ear plugs nestling in the redundant ash trays took off from Stanley airport to Saunders Island.

Saunders Island 51o22'S 60o05'W population 5 pers plus visitors

A smooth flight and then the wide gravel strip of Saunders. We kissed the earth with the wheels and I felt like kissing the earth myself. Then a 10 mile landrover trek taking one hour to reach The Neck. In the Landy were Paul from Poland, our host, we two and an PhD student from the US studying the Striated Caracara of this island.

Superb location on the neck with all 4 local penguins

• Gentoo
• Rockhopper
• Magellanic
• King

In addition to

• Black Browed Albatross
• Striated Caracara (Johnny Rook)
• Giant Petrel
• Kelp Gull
• Upland Goose
• Rock Cormorant
• Kelp Goose

Hot and sunny here, so high factor sunblock slapped on and off to try out my 400mm Canon L lens for real.

Back for our evening meal with the Caracara tiptoeing across the corrugated roof of the hut — must have been extras for Alfred Hitchcock

A misty or even foggy day. Wind still howling around the hut and the Caracaras are nowhere to be seen. It seems that they do not like the bad weather. Generator now fired up for its morning hour of recharging our batteries and we have run out of staples of washing up liquid, and bleach.

300 photos taken and will be sorted on our return to the Macbook Air.

The fog lifts so we set out towards Elephant Point. Perhaps, the elephant seals will be there again. The Gentoos scatter as we thhread our way between the colonies. Tight knots of Magellanic penguins rush around in a boiling huddle as we pass. Individuals scatter to left and right, but not usually in the direction furthest away from us. They seem to have little sense. Striated Caracara spy us and run pell-mell to stop near our feet. Has their behaviour been changed by the use of food lures so that their ring numbers can be read and noted?

Onward, skirting between the beach and Mt Harston, we smell the Rock Cormorant colony before we espy them around the headland. No seals, just sheep and wet grass glistening with drops of moisture. No tussock grass either — it seems that the sheep have grazed it to extinction. It might come back if the sheep were to go. It seems that the restoration of this environment depends on the removal of that animal that is also implicated in floods caused by the rapid runoff of rainwater from the hills of Cumbria and other upland areas. Tussock does survive, but only in those small cracks in the cliffs, where the Black-browed Albatross nest and sheep cannot reach. The solution is obvious — the material cost is not.

Onwards, we trudge, regretting our choice of dry weather footwear. My toes squelch in tepid water, filtering through the permeable uppers. At last, one more headland and the fog comes down in earnest. The picnic is laid out, consumed and we retrace our steps.

Ghostly sheep loom out of the mist like a Conan Doyle novel, and they point our way to the beach. Sheep are not a species that I expect to see ambling along the beach. Nothing much for them to destroy here though and so back to the Gentoos returning from the sea. Krill seems to be a favourite food, judging by the red colour of their scat (is this the right term for penguin droppings?) As we hoover up the animal life in the oceans (I nearly wrote our oceans — but they are not just ours to use and despoil as we have the land) how much food will be left for the birds and mammals who live here?

Global warming is not a consequence of human activity, but of too many humans on this planet.

Wonderful birds. They do not belong around your neck, but riding the winds of the great southern ocean

The Queen's baton arrived in the Falklands today. It had come from Capetown by ship to St Helena and then onto Ascension Island.
It joined our flight on the 2nd leg of our journey. The baton was brought around the cabin by a very nice lady. It was off to the Carribean after the Falklands, but another team would take over for that next section.
When we arrived at Mount Pleasant, the cameras were out in force (though normally photography is forbidden). Primary schoolchildren lined our route into the terminal and flags had been issued. All were keen to be involved. Perhaps my case had been caught up in the excitement and wanted to stay for the event.